An Hour is a Sea
by munchkinjenny05
Summary: Simple angsty oneshot. What if you do if you had just one hour? Quinn reflects on her life since she gave up Beth and recalls the short time that she spent with her newborn baby daughter...


**I wrote this intending it to be the first chapter in my Quinn/Mack relationship story that features Quinn's sadness over Beth very heavily, but suddenly it morphed into something else. This is the result. **

**When I read it back, I was struck by it and I thought it best to leave it, as a standalone piece. I didn't want to tamper with it or try and change it. Therefore, it's probably not my best written one shot, but like the simplicity. Not bad for an accident…**

_An hour, that's all. Everything and nothing. Such a small unit of time, people squander them. I'd spent longer doing my hair this morning. It may not seem like much but it was the length of time that I held my baby girl. I tried to live a whole lifetime, but it was just an hour…_

I couldn't hold on to the one thing that mattered. When it came down to it, I let go, I gave in. I let the fears and doubts win. I thought it was the right thing to do. Everybody told me it was, over and over until I believed them. What could I offer her? I'd loved her from the beginning, a secret that burned within me, strengthening with each kick, but a baby couldn't live off love alone. It wouldn't feed or clothe her, or put a roof over her head would it? It came down to this, love wasn't enough. So I let her go. It didn't change anything. Telling myself that she would have a better life didn't make it any easier. I was as though I'd ripped out my heart and soul and gave them away at the same time.

_60 minutes. I can still hear it, the deafening ticking sound as the clock ticked away my last chance. I couldn't stand the thought of spending 4260 more in that sterile white room. The clock would mark that my time was up and I'd have to watch as she disappeared in someone else's arms…_

I tried to fill the void with the vestiges of my old life. I clutched at the things that used to be important, boyfriends, popularity, cheerleading. I couldn't force myself to care about such trivial things, I was just going through the motions and I was convinced that everybody knew it. Nobody challenged me though; they either genuinely couldn't see how alien I felt in my own skin or they chose not to question it. Maybe they thought like I did. Perhaps they hoped that if I pretended hard enough, for long enough that in time I might feel something akin to normality. I was desperate for it to become real again, for things to be simple like they once were.

It wasn't that easy. Life doesn't have a rewind button. Although I tried to do everything the same, it was impossible. I felt like a doppelganger, a stand in actress that was trying to play the role with only half a script. It was all so hollow. I may have been a cheerleader again but the uniform didn't sit right. It was all so false. I didn't have any school spirit; I had no spirit at all. Getting Finn back didn't change anything, because I had nothing left to feel for him. I was consumed by feelings of love but they weren't his or even Puck's to have, they belonged to only Beth. I couldn't bear the agony of it, so I shut my feelings off entirely. It was safer to be empty and blank. People tried to reach me, but I was untouchable, staring out from behind the safety of my walls. They couldn't breach the barriers to see the real me. I showed them only what they wanted to see and they fell for my tricks. People stopped checking up on me and asking questions, in their eyes, I was fine.

_3600 seconds. As hard as I try to forget I remember it all. The smell of Beth, my baby, the weight of her tiny body in my arms and the delicate softness of her sparse blonde curls and pink skin, every vivid detail is etched into me, like a wound that won't heal. The suffering is beyond measure, but it's mine and it's all I have left…_

My mom asked me to move back in. That, I believe is when my lying game began to unravel. It wasn't enough. Judy may have let me back into the house, but I wasn't redeemed or forgiven. My father's departure hadn't been some magical turning point in our relationship. Instead of love, I felt only judgement. I often wondered why she had me home at all, but then I realised that we were more alike than I knew. I wasn't the only one putting on pretences and anxiously trying to replace what I'd lost. I wished it had stopped there. Replacement wasn't sufficient; she had to improve her situation and therefore me. She began her crusade to mould me into the daughter she had longed for. It would have been kinder on us both if she had given me up as a lost cause, I could never attain her expectations before, and I had even less chance now. My apathy angered her and that only spurred her on. Becoming Prom Queen became the pinnacle of everything.

I don't know if it was because she wore me down but began to see some semblance of sense in my mother's frantic quest. It wasn't entirely pointless. If I won, it was possible I could glean a small amount of respect back, if not from myself, at least from others. Maybe then she would meet my eyes when I walked into a room. It was too much to ask that I would feel good about myself but at least I could alter people's perceptions of me. I wouldn't just be the girl that got knocked up in high school. I would have something to show for my existence, a justification for giving away the one good thing in my life. I could say, look Beth, I gave you away, but at least you can be proud of me a little, I wasn't a whore or a druggie, I got good grades, I was head cheerleader and Prom Queen, something all the girls aspire to be. I didn't waste my second chance at this life. I made something of myself.

_3,600,000 milliseconds. Whenever I am with my mother, I am reminded of my daughter. It's painful. Will she hate me too? Looking at myself is worse. Just passing a mirror is enough to remind me, triggering the memory of miniature, perfect replicas of hazel orbs, staring up at me, seeing me… _

It was inevitable that the plan would collapse. They saw through my façade to the desperation beneath. It wasn't healthy to them for someone to want a plastic crown so fiercely. They didn't understand what it meant and in turn threw their votes away on a cruel joke. I turned my anger to the easiest target, scared to turn it inward, it would destroy me. In that bathroom with Rachel, I didn't recognise myself. Her comfort, empathy, I didn't deserve it. I wasn't worthy of anything. I was selfish. I had sacrificed everything for nothing. It wasn't the right thing to do. It was my biggest mistake and I could never undo it. I deserve only torment.

I stopped trying. That summer I reinvented myself. I can't say I found myself, there is nothing to discover. I'm still empty. I wrap my despair around me and it waves like a banner, keeping people away. Nobody can fix me. That's not what I want or need. Nobody understands, especially not those close to me. Solitude is my gift; I don't have to pretend in the company of strangers that I'm not broken. They see a girl with pink hair surrounded by a cloud of smoke, they don't realise I'm a little girl lost. It's easier. I don't have to explain that I cannot move forward, I'm stuck, relieving my regret, dwelling on my mistake. They are oblivious to how much I wish I could do everything differently. Passersby are blind to the intensity with which I cling to the one thing I did right, the short time I spent alone with my baby girl.

_An hour. Everything comes back to of all; I am haunted by the echo of that first loud cry in my ears. It fills my head as I dream. My heart stops every time as it did the first time I heard it. My breath catches in my throat. The joy of that sound is worse than anything else. I'm scared of what will happen if it fades…_


End file.
